Full Moon Series
by Vashti
Summary: Companion series to Acne Scars and Bad Hair Day. Oz goes deep, becomes one of the family and fulfills his Blood Rites, all without breaking a guitar string. (chs 3 of 9 up)
1. Waxing: New Moon

Waxing: New Moon  
vashti

Rating: PG-13 to R. I'll let you know  
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon still owns him...FREE OZ!!!!  
Author's Note: sequal/companion series to "Acne Scars" and "Bad Hair Day" 

"So you believe homosexuality is evil."

Seraphim cocked her head to one side. "You know, Oz, when you say it like that it sounds all mean, but," a pensive look came over her face. "Yeah. Basically."

"But you don't believe homosexuals are evil."

Frowning, she asked, "Do we have to keep using the word 'evil?'"

Oz shrugged. "You would prefer…"

" 'Wrong.'"

"Okay, so you think that gayness is wrong."

Seraphim nodded. "Basically."

Oz reached for a handful of popcorn from the bowl between them. The television, mute, was all but forgotten. "But gay people aren't wrong."

"Well…" She scratched her head, further mussing her late-night hair. "That's not exactly well worded either, is it? I believe that homosexuality is a sin, and that people who practice it are sinning, but that doesn't mean that the people are evil and that they have to be quarantined or something. Or more likely, that I'm gonna quarantine _myself_ from _them._ That seems pretty stupid."

"Especially considering you'd never talk to Pieter again."

Seraphim looked at him over the popcorn bowl, propped up on spare couch pillows. "That's just a nasty rumor."

"You also live in a specially constructed fantasy land, don't you?"

"Tickets to Sera-land are cheap, my friend, but for one night only," she answered solemnly.

Oz grabbed another handful of popcorn. "So doesn't that conflict with your beliefs?"

"Huh?"

"Living with a potentially gay--"

"Maybe he's just bi."

"A potentially bi-sexual man."

Seraphim shrugged. "Don't know why it should."

"There are laws--"

"Which are pretty outdated."

"So doesn't that mean that the laws about homosexuality are outdated too?"

"No."

Oz turned to Seraphim. "So it should still be legal for people to own slaves, and we should be stoned because we did the laundry this morning, on the day formerly known as Sunday?"

She frowned at him. "Of course not. Those were social laws. Homo--"

"Is a social law."

"It's more than that," she said defensively.

The look on Oz's face demanded how.

"Do you see any gays in the Bible? Well, none that survive to the end of the chapter at least. Think Sodom and Gomorrah."

"I thought Jesus said he came to do away with all the old Mosaic law."

Seraphim turned to Oz. "You know, for someone who is neither Christian nor Jewish you seem to know a lot of Judeo-Christian theory."

"Bible as Literature class."

"Ah. Okay…well that's a whole 'nother set of problems I'm not gonna get into tonight. Er, today. Whatever. What were you saying?"

"Jesus got rid of Deuteronomy."

"Right. Which is wrong. About Him getting rid of the Book of the Law. He said 'I have come to _fulfill_ the law' not 'I have come to hijack and make it my own, muahahaha!!'"

"You think Jesus would have done a 'muahaha?'"

"I would like to think my savior had his silly moments."

Oz's eyebrows shrugged.

"Anywho, so He comes, fulfills the law and brings grace."

"Which means…"

"That if you're gay, the Christians -- the non-scary ones mind you. I can't vouch for any militant types"

"Course not. Everyone's got one."

"Is there a militant-type of Oz?"

Oz frowned. "I think that's an oxymoron."

"Huh. Where were we?"

"Jesus. Fulfill law. Grace. Christians and the Gay Man."

"Right!" Seraphim popped a handful of popcorn in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment as she stared blankly at the television screen. "Okay. So Jesus comes and dies for everyone, right--"

"Wait, go back to what you were saying about the Christians."

Seraphim turned to him. "Huh?"

"Nevermind. It'll come back up. Hopefully not literally."

Mouthing _o-kay_ at the screen she went on. "So he dies for everyone, right? Right. He made Himself the sacrifice for all the stuff people had ever done wrong and will ever do wrong. Now some of those laws, like about not eating pork and whatnot, were partly religious and partly practical. I mean, dude, if you're eatin' Kosher you're pretty assured it's gonna be the cleanest thing this side of manna."

For a moment Oz gave her a strange look, then he nodded. "Right. Miracle bread. Wandering in the wilderness for forty years. That was pretty harsh."

"Hey, God isn't just all warm and fuzzy, He's jealous too. Anywho, on the religious bent, a lot of the stuff that the Israelites were forbidden to eat were foods offered to idol gods, so it wasn't too cool to be sitting down eating food offered to idols. Right, so--"

"Wasn't that another issue?"

Seraphim turned to Oz. "I'm just a knowledgeable Christian here, Oz, not a Bible scholar! Give a girl a break. You wouldn't ask some kid who just got his Bachelors of Medicine to diagnose you, you'd go to a Ph.D." She sat back, arms crossed over her chest.

They stared at the mute television in silence for a long time. 

"I'm sorry, Sera."

Mouth in a stubborn little moue of indignation, despite being completely placated, Seraphim said, "You should be."

Oz handed her the popcorn bowl.

"Where were we?" She tossed a handful of popcorn at her mouth, then went diving for them when they mostly missed.

"Food. Mosaic law. Somehow this relates to homosexuality?"

Seraphim frowned. "Oh. Right. Uh, so after Jesus came they technically didn't need any of that stuff. I mean, there are no other gods. There's only God. So even if food was offered to the 'gods' it didn't matter because in the end it was just food, just like there's just God." She made a face as she spied the glazed look that had come over Oz. "Okay, so maybe that one _does_ take some time to grasp."

Oz shook his head as if to clear it. "And this relates to being gay and that being wrong despite everything else being okay…how?"

"Because being gay isn't just some social custom. I mean, if God had been planning for some alt kinda relationships why weren't there _four_ people in the garden? Two of each sex. That way the Adams and the Eves could choose which they dug more. But He didn't. There were only two of'em. And so many things are still relevant. People just like to ignore the _rest_ of the New Testament where, by word or deed, he proves just that."

"Ookay," Oz said slowly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "But what about the slavery thing."

Seraphim frowned. "Well that was different then too. If you were someone's slave… Well it was more like indentured servitude. You were working off some kind of debt and you had all these rights. And after a certain period of time -- don't ask me what, I just know it's an odd number -- you were freed and all your debts were renigged." Seraphim shrugged, suddenly tired. "Is there anything to drink over by you?"

Oz bent down over the couch. "Uh, the rest of the Coke from the pizza LoAnne ordered, but I think it's flat. And water. Which looks like it might be warm."

"Hmm, which is the lesser of two evils."

"Well according to the Price Is Right crowd," Oz said, redirecting her back to the mute television, "you should go for the warm water."

"But the Coke could be the grand prize winner!"

"Trust me on the water," Oz intoned.

Grinning, Seraphim took the bottle of water, it's label having been stripped long ago. "_Ah! _ Love that city gin."

Oz shook his head.

_PING!_

Half-turning to look behind her, Seraphim said, "Clothes are dry." She pushed herself up onto her knees.

"I'll get them," Oz said, standing.

"Thanks, Oz."

When he came back he motioned Seraphim to move the popcorn bowl then dumped the near-hot clothes into the vacant space. The were-cheetah flung herself on the pile. "I love, love, _love_ the smell of freshly dried clothes."

"That's a little too much love, Sera."

She stuck her tongue out at him, straightening as he sat down to fold clothes with her.

"Hey, so Sera."

"Yeah, Oz?"

"So how do you feel about the evilness of weres?"

Groaning, Seraphim collapsed back onto the clothes, mumbling into the still warm pile, "Not tonight, Oz. Next laundry night. Please."

[in]Fin[ite]


	2. Waxing: Crescent Moon

Waxing: Crescent Moon  
_The second in the Full Moon Series_.

"You walked into my house last night. I couldn't help but notice a light that was long gone still burning strong." Beth Orton

Sitting on the steps of the old Victorian house, staring out into the night, Oz knew what a guard-dog must feel like.

He had been sitting since late afternoon, waiting for the various inhabitants of the house to come back from their many rounds. He'd already picked up Shiloh from school so that Toni could work some overtime at her office job in the City. Seraphim's pottery class ran late into the afternoon. She had come home smelling of earth and clay -- a strangely clean smell -- of people and of her own contentment.

"Hey, Oz. Movie tonight?"

"Not tonight, Sera."

" 'Kay." She had gone into the house then, briefly rubbing the back of her hand against his cheek as she went. It had taken him a little while to get used to that -- sudden inexplicable rubbing touches from other house-members, and to learn when they were expected. 

Anything to keep them from pissing in corners, as Bobby would say, a grin worthy of a hyena splitting his face. Oz didn't like to mention that that was the kind of thing wolves did, he being the only one and all.

Steps behind him.

Oz's head began to turn, but then his brain interpreted what his lycanthrope ears heard. His right hand rose in anticipation of…

LoAnne took it, rubbing her cheek against it's surprisingly smooth back as she sat next to him. "Came in through the back," she said in her strangely husky voice. 

"Trying to shock me?"

"Did it work?"

He pulled her hand, still held in his, over his heart. "Terrified."

LoAnne leaned closer and nuzzled his neck briefly. "Is Toni home?" At Oz's raised eyebrow she explained, "I walked straight through the house to find you."

"A little while ago." He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "She went out for groceries."

"We don't have--" LoAnne said, frowning. 

"It's okay," Oz insisted gently, "I gave her some money."

"Oz you--"

He shrugged. "I got a really nice tip. We need fresh food. Especially Shiloh."

For a long moment, LoAnne was silent. A long empty moment. Kissing him hard on the lips she rose. "You're right. I'm going inside to help begin dinner. Will you come?"

Oz shook his head. "Everyone's not home yet."

With a nod of understanding, a caress of his cheek, she went inside.

The fall breeze picked up carrying with it the faintly spicy scent of the falling and decaying leaves. And two males coming down the sidewalk. 

Familiar.

Family… Almost.

Oz wasn't expecting Bobby back until the wee hours, if at all. He wondered if the punk-cheetah had let LoAnne of his plans. Which only left Pieter.

It was the fourth night out of the last five that Pieter had gone out…with his friend. They remained swathed in the shadows of the low, drooping trees that lined their street. Although the breeze carried their scent, it only brought garbled fragments of their conversation -- snatches of laughter.

The wind changed. Drifted downwind. Swirled. Came back. Brought with it Pieter and only Pieter.

He walked up the block with a determined I'm-Just-Coming-Home stride. "Hello, Oz," he said with his too-perfect, unaccented English. 

"You don't have to hide."

Pieter's lips twitched as if trying to determine which expression they wanted to form themselves into. Finally he just looked up, past Oz, to the second floor.

Oz followed his gaze. Shiloh waved from the window.

"Yes I do." He came to sit beside Oz.

"You know Seraphim likes to believe--"

Pieter waved him off with a hand. "Sera believes many things. They are what keep her strong. What has always kept her strong." He rested his elbows on her knees. "I would not take that from her."

"And Shiloh?"

"That is for Toni to decide. He is her child."

"I heard my name."

Both men looked up at Toni, striding down the street, bags in hand. Pieter jumped to his feet. "Just talking about what a wonderful mother you are to our Shiloh."

Grinning she said, "Smooth talker. How about taking some of these bags for me, huh?"

His smile was gentleman gallant's. "Of course, my lady." He tripped down the stairs to relieve her. As they reached the steps, Oz stood and took Pieter's bags, who then turned and took the rest of Toni's. "You guys are too much. Oz, you know if Shiloh did his homework?"

"Yes ma'am," he said saluting with a shopping bag. He held open the door.

"So, Toni," Pieter said turning, "how was work?"

[in]Fin[ite]


	3. Waxing: ThreeQuarter Moon

Waxing: Three Quarter Moon  
_Third in the Full Moon series_.

__

"…light up my darkness. Pour over me…"

Oz stopped midway up the staircase as strains of Toni singing on the roof floated down through the basement, to the upper floors of the old Victorian house. He heard creaking on the stairs above him. A face looked down from over the banister.

"Hey Oz."

The person's face was backlit, but his piercings glittered in the light. "Hey Bobby."

"You was goin' up to the roof too?"

Oz nodded. "Yeah." He couldn't see it, but Oz was sure Bobby was grinning.

"She sure does sound pretty up there, huh?"

"Yeah."

Bobby stepped out of the light, making him more visible to Oz. Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, he came clunking down to Oz's level. "Heard anything about that hunter?"

"Vorickson?"

Bobby nodded.

"Pieter and Lo have been tracking him. He hasn't left the city."

Grinning toothily, Bobby rubbed his hands together. _"Nice._ We ain't had a good feeding in…years."

Oz could feel an answering smile stretch his lips. Violence wasn't usually his weapon of choice, but this Vorickson reminded him painfully of Kane. And despite the danger to themselves, and the species differential, the cheetahs had sheltered him and made him a part of their pod. Their family. Pieter had even offered Oz First Blood Rites on the man that had nearly killed him, even though they had an equal claim.

"Hey, LoAnne let's you call her 'Lo?' Last time I tried that I had to pay for the window I went through."

Oz grinned. "She do it?"

"Nah. She just gave me that look. Y'know the one where it looks like if she comes within, like, ten feet of ya you ain't gonna have no bones left after she's done."

"Yeah."

"So I jumps through the window as a kinda self-defense. She already had like three feet on me, and I swear that chick can move fast."

"You're cheetahs, Bobby."

"Yeah, but still."

Oz shook his head.

"So, really, she let's you call her 'Lo?'"

"Nope."

Bobby laughed. "Yeah, LoAnne's one scary chick. But, ya know, the two of you is really cute together."

"Don't let Lo hear you say that."

Bobby shrugged. "She wouldn't hurt me for somethin' like that. Gimme extra bathroom duty, but nothin', you know, really _painful_."

That got a chuckle from Oz.

Both their heads snapped up as someone tread across the floor above their heads. "Wonder who that was?"

Oz shrugged. "Hey, so Pieter's saying that maybe we could do this around a full moon."

"The Vorickson thing?"

Oz nodded.

If he didn't consider Bobby family, Oz might have found Bobby's grin, full of vaguely pointed teeth, menacing. "Hey, you know I could do with a new trophy. Whatcha think, Oz, a tatt or another piercing?"

Oz found himself responding with a feral grin of his own. "Tattoo. You're starting to resemble a sieve."

Bobby chuckled. "You gonna get somethin' to remember the night by, Oz? Or maybe you're gonna get yourself a real trophy. A finger maybe? Ear?"

"I've never been a real big fan of putting more holes in myself than absolutely necessary."

"So just the ring in both ears, huh?"

"Exactly… But I'll think of something."

Another voice had joined Toni's up on the roof. _For the mercy of your plan. Help me be strong. Help me be…_ The two resonating as one as they rose into the night and floated to earth. Oz recognized Seraphim's soaring soprano flowering Toni's steady alto.

A light Oz had never seen before shown in Bobby's eyes. "Toni don't sing much anymore, but she's got some voice, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I guess that's my cue if ever there was one."

Before Oz could ask Bobby what he meant, the pierced and mohawked were-cheetah was climbing back up the stairs. Just before he disappeared from sight he opened his mouth to sing the tenor note.

_Breath of heaven, hold me together. Be forever near me_

Oz was still standing at the landing when LoAnne, back from wherever she went when she went off alone, came upstairs. "They're beautiful, aren't they," she said in her strangely husky voice. 

"Yes."

Eyes closed and face upturned as if it was the sun on her face, LoAnne said, "Sometimes I wish I shared just one part of their voice." She took a deep breath, leaned over and kissed Oz chastely before going up to their room.

He was still on the landing when the trio finally came down.

[in]Fin[ite]

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